Blyton, Enid - Secret Seven 14 - Look Out, Secret Seven

73 Pages·2016·0.24 MB·English

by  Blyton Enid

Enid Blyton

Look Out, Secret Seven

One

Holidays at last

‘HOLIDAYS at last!’ said Peter, coming in at the back door, and flinging his school
satchel right across the kitchen. It struck the chair that the cat was lying in, and
she gave a yowl of fright and disappeared at top speed through the open window.

‘Now what did you want to frighten old Puss for?’ demanded Cookie, rolling

out pastry fiercely. ‘Sleeping there peacefully after catching mice all night in
your father’s barn!’

‘I didn’t know she was there,’ said Peter. ‘Honestly I didn’t. May I have a dig

into that jampot, Cookie?’

‘You may not,’ said Cookie. ‘Where’s your sister? Oh my, oh my — holidays

again, and you two poking round my kitchen all the time. What a life!’

‘Cookie dear, you’ll have two people to run your errands, and scrape out

dishes, and tell you that your apple-pie is the best in the world,’ said Peter.
‘And . . .’

‘Yes — and two people taking buns out of my tin, and wanting raisins to eat at

all times, and asking for homemade lemonade, and . . .’

Janet, Peter’s sister, came running in, flung her arms round Cookie and gave

her a smacking kiss.

‘What’s for dinner?’ she said.

‘You two don’t think of anything but food,’ grumbled Cookie, giving her

pastry a good roll. ‘You’d better go into the sitting-room to your mother. Your
godmother’s with her — and if I know anything about her, she’ll have brought
you a present — sweets or something.’

Peter and Janet went at once to the sitting-room. They were very fond of their

godmother, Auntie Lou. They each gave her a hug, and informed her that the
holidays had how begun.

‘So we can come over and see you, if you like,’ said Peter.

‘Wait till you are asked, Peter,’ said his mother. ‘And what have you been

doing to your knees? I cannot think how you get them so black. Anyone would
suppose you walked back from school on them over all the mud you could find.’

‘I’ll go and wash them,’ said Peter, looking down at them in horror. ‘Mother, I

honestly don’t know how they . . .’

‘Well, just let me give you my little holiday present,’ said his godmother. ‘I

can’t wait while you wash your knees, I have to catch the bus. I imagine you still
like chocolates?’

And she handed over to him a large tin box, so large that Peter and Janet

couldn’t believe it contained just chocolates. ‘I know you have a club of some
sort,’ she said. ‘Seven or eight of you, aren’t there? Well, I thought you’d like
this tin of chocolate biscuits for your next meeting.’

Peter took off the lid — and stared in delight.

‘Janet, look — dozens and dozens of chocolate biscuits of all kinds! Gosh!

Mother, I shall call a meeting at once. Oh, Auntie Lou, you are generous! Are
they really all for us?’

‘For you and your friends,’ said his godmother, getting up. ‘Now I really must

catch my bus. Come and see me off.’

So off they all went to see Auntie Lou safely into the bus. Then back to the

sitting-room — and the tin of biscuits.

‘Let’s not eat a single one ourselves till we call a meeting of the Secret

Seven,’ said Peter. ‘We’ll offer them to Mother and Cookie, but we won’t take
any ourselves. It’s ages since we had a good meeting — and these will make a
meeting go like anything.’

‘We’ll call one tomorrow,’ said Janet, happily. ‘Oh, to think it’s holidays

again — with meetings down in the shed — and passwords and badges, and . . .’

‘Passwords — passwords — now what in the world was our last one?’ said

Peter.

‘That’s easy,’ said Janet. ‘We chose “Holidays” because we knew the hols

would be here when we had the next meeting. I bet everyone remembers it. Let’s
go round to all the members tonight — or telephone — and tell them there’s a
meeting tomorrow — at, say, five o’clock.’

‘But that’s teatime,’said Peter.

‘Of course, silly — and those chocolate biscuits will be just right for

then,’said Janet.

‘Yes — they will,’ said Peter. ‘Couldn’t you write notes to tell the others of

the meeting, Janet? It’s — well, it’s a bit more official.’

‘You write them then,’ said Janet. ‘You’re more official than I am. You’re the

head of the club.’

‘Well — perhaps it would be quicker to telephone,’ said Peter. ‘Ha — it will

be grand to have the Secret Seven going again. I do hope something exciting
turns up.’

‘It usually does,’ said Janet. ‘Especially if that awful Susie is about.’

‘Jack says Susie’s been worse than ever lately,’ said Peter. ‘If I had a sister

like Susie I’d sit on her all the time, and ‘Then you’d have a mighty
uncomfortable seat!’ said Janet. ‘Nobody’s ever got the better of Susie yet. I bet
she’ll come to the meeting tomorrow, if she can.’

‘Well, she won’t get in, if she does come,’ said Peter. ‘Ah, Scamper — there

you are. WHY weren’t you here to welcome us back for the holidays?’

Scamper was their lovely golden spaniel. He had been with Matt the shepherd

up on the hills, playing with Shadow, Matt’s faithful old sheep-dog. Then he had
suddenly remembered that Peter had told him the holidays began today.
HOLIDAYS! Scamper knew that word well — it meant days and days of Peter’s
and Janet’s company, it meant walks, and games, and titbits of all kinds.

So Scamper had given Shadow a sudden apologetic bark, and, to the collie’s

surprise, had raced down the hill as fast as a hare, his long ears flapping up and
down. HOLIDAYS!

Soon he was barking in delight round the two children — and then he

suddenly sniffed chocolates. Ha, chocolates — better still!

‘You shall have the very first one,’ said Janet, taking a biscuit from the top

layer. ‘Catch!’

Snap! It was in Scamper’s mouth — one crunch, and it was gone!

‘Biscuits are really wasted on you, Scamper,’ said Janet. ‘I don’t believe you

even taste them. We’re calling a meeting of the Secret Seven tomorrow — you’d
like to come, wouldn’t you?’

‘WOOF!’ said Scamper, joyfully, his stump of a tail wagging like clockwork.

Meetings! Biscuits! Holidays! Woof, woof — life was going to be FUN!

Two

A shock for the Secret Seven

IN the evening Peter and Janet telephoned to the other members of the Secret
Seven, and told them about the meeting, and the enormous tin of chocolate
biscuits.

‘If you like to bring something to drink — orangeade or lemonade, for

instance, we’ll provide the mugs,’ said Peter.

Soon all the members knew of the meeting and Peter put down the telephone

for the last time. ‘Phew — I do hate telephoning,’ he said. ‘Everyone wants to be
so chatty!’

‘Well, you sounded pretty chatty yourself when you spoke to George and

Colin,’ said Janet. ‘And what a pity Susie came to the telephone when you
wanted to speak to Jack! Now she knows there’s a meeting she’ll try and play
one of her usual silly tricks — I bet she won’t give Jack your message.’

‘She said she was going to a fancy-dress party tomorrow,’ said Peter. ‘So

we’ll be safe from her for once.’

‘Oh yes — I remember now,’ said Janet. ‘Her cousin’s giving a fancy-dress

affair tomorrow afternoon. I wonder what Susie’s going as. That awful friend of
hers, Binkie, is going too.’

‘Susie said they were going as Jack and Jill,’ said Peter. ‘But I bet they won’t

bother to take a pail of water with them. I’d like to empty a pail of very, very
cold water over Susie’s head.’

‘You’d never get the chance,’ said Janet, with a giggle at the thought of Peter

throwing water over that monkey of a Susie. ‘She’d souse you before you could
stop her.’

‘Don’t be silly,’ said Peter. ‘I’d never let a girl do a thing like that. Now listen

— we’ll have to be pretty busy tomorrow if we’re going to meet in the shed.

You’ll have to find those green letters, S.S., and pin them on to the door — we
took them off because they were getting wet with all that rain, you remember.
And for goodness’ sake find our badges.’

‘I put them away safely in my jewel-case,’ said Janet. ‘So you needn’t worry.’

‘Well, I hope you’ll find them there,’ said Peter. ‘Last time I saw your jewel-

case it had sweets in it, and a new rubber, and a bit of sealing-wax, a broken
brooch, a . . .’

‘You’d no right to look into my jewel-case,’ said Janet, ‘and I shall . . .’

‘All right, all right,’ said Peter, hastily. ‘Let’s not quarrel when there’s so

much to do. I hope Gardener hasn’t taken away the boxes we used to sit on in the
shed. And Scamper, I hope you’ve been keeping down the mice and rats there
for us. I should feel very ashamed of you tomorrow evening if a few rats came to
join us.’

‘Ugh! What a horrible thought!’ said Janet. Scamper gave a loud bark at the

same time, as if to tell her that all the rats and mice had been safely dealt with.
He decided to go down to the shed the first thing next morning to make quite
sure there wasn’t even a sniff of them.

It was very pleasant next day to turn out the old shed and make it tidy and

clean. Gardener popped his head in at the door, grunted and went away again,
nodding his head in approval of all the tidying up going on.

‘ ’Bout time too,’ they heard him mutter as he went up the path. Janet looked

round the clean shed, pleased with their work. Boxes to sit on — mugs on the
little shelf, ready for any drinks that were brought — seven little plastic plates
for the biscuits, one for each member — the tin itself standing proudly on a little
box of its own — and an old, rather raggedy rug on the earth floor.

‘Nice!’ said Janet. ‘The shed smells a bit of apples, doesn’t it, Peter — there

were some stored here in the winter, you know. I’ve put the S.S. on the door. It’s
a pity the shed has such a small window, it makes it rather dark in here. But it’s
not dark enough for candles, is it?’

‘No,’ said Peter. ‘Anyway, Mother gets scared if we have candles down here

— says Scamper is sure to knock one over and then up would go the shed in

flames, and . . .’

‘And the fire-engine would come, and we’d have the most exciting meeting

we’ve ever had,’ said Janet.

The meeting was to begin at five o’clock, and at five to five Peter, Janet, and

Scamper were sitting in the shed, waiting. Scamper eyed the tin of biscuits
longingly, and gave pathetic little whines, as if to say he was so hungry that he
couldn’t wait another second for a meal.

Then he suddenly whined excitedly. He had heard footsteps! ‘The others are

coming,’ said Peter, pleased. ‘Nice and punctual, too.’

Bang-bang. That was someone knocking on the shed door.

‘Password, please!’ called Peter, and Pam’s and Barbara’s voices answered at

once.

‘Holidays!’

Peter opened the door, grinning. ‘Right!’ he said. ‘Come in. Hallo, here comes

someone else. Password, please!’

‘Holidays!’ said Colin’s voice. No sooner was he in the shed than there came

another knock — this time it was George.

‘Password!’ shouted Peter.

‘Peter, is it “Holidays”?’ asked George. ‘Thank goodness it is! I say, isn’t it

nice to be the Secret Seven again? Are we all here? It’s a bit dark in the shed this
evening.’

‘Only Jack to come,’ said Peter. ‘I think I can hear him now. Yes, here he is.

Password, Jack!’

‘Holidays’, came the answer, and then the door was shut on the Seven. The

meeting was about to begin!

And then, very surprisingly, Scamper suddenly began to growl! He sat in a

dark corner of the shed and growled and growled without stopping. Everyone

stared at him in wonder.

‘What’s up, Scamper?’ asked Peter, but the only answer was another fierce

growl. It really was very puzzling.

‘Scamper seems to be growling at JACK!’ said Pam. ‘Look at him staring at

him. He’s even showing his teeth!’

‘He’s never done that before to any of us,’ said Janet. ‘Stop it, Scamper. Jack,

take off your cap, perhaps that’s why Scamper’s growling. You forgot to take it
off when you came in.’

‘Er — I think I’d better keep it on,’ said Jack. ‘I’ve — er — a bit of a cold in

my head.’

George suddenly whipped off the cap — and everyone stared in amazement

and anger. Hair tumbled out from under the cap — but not short hair!

‘It’s SUSIE! Susie, not Jack! Susie, how DARE you dress up in Jack’s clothes

and come to a meeting?’ shouted Peter.

‘Well — Binkie and I were on our way home from a fancy-dress party, and we

thought we’d look in on our way past,’ grinned Susie. ‘We went as Jack and Jill,
you see. I’m Jack — and Binkie, who’s hiding outside, is Jill. Jack lent me his
clothes, so that I could be a boy at the party — and my voice and his are alike, so
it was easy to get into your meeting. Ha ha — I heard your password being said
— you really are a lot of simpletons, you know — and here I am!’

‘And Scamper was the only sensible one among us!’ groaned George. ‘He

knew it wasn’t old Jack sitting here with us! Get out, Susie. GET OUT!’

‘With pleasure,’ said Susie, and stood up, still with a most infuriating grin on

her face. ‘Jack will be along here soon. I told him the meeting was at half past
five, instead of five, so it’s not his fault he’s late. Am I clever enough to be one
of the Secret Seven?’

But that was too much for Peter. He gave Susie a push to send her out of the

shed, but she wouldn’t go, and, instead, began to yell.

‘Binkie! Help, Binkie!’

She rushed out of the shed door with all the others following her in a real rage

— and then, quite suddenly, something very cold and wet descended on them,
soaking their heads and shoulders!

‘Oh — sorry — that was the pail of water we took as Jack and Jill!’ called

Susie, with a squeal of laughter. ‘Good shot, Binkie! Good night, all — hope you
have a very pleasant meeting!’

And off went the two wicked girls, very pleased indeed with their evening’s

work. To be One Up on the Secret Seven was wonderful. Oh what a tale to tell
their giggling friends!

Three

A very good meeting

THE six left in the shed were too angry for words. Peter shook his fist after the
two running girls, and yelled in fury.

‘We’re soaked! How DARE you! You wait till we see you again!’

But all the answer they had was the sound of running feet — and distant

squeals of laughter. That Susie! How could she even have THOUGHT of such a
trick? Poor Jack — fancy having a sister like that!

‘Borrowing his clothes too, to be Jack in the nursery rhyme,’ groaned Peter,

mopping his shoulder with an old sack, ‘AND having a pail of water too! I’m wet
through!’

‘And fancy telling Jack the meeting wasn’t till half past five — no wonder

he’s late!’ said Janet. ‘I’ll fetch an old towel from the house, Peter. You’re the
wettest because you were nearest.’

‘No, don’t. You’ll only have Mother asking what’s happened. Oh, that awful

Susie! I’ll tell Jack exactly what I think of her when he comes!’

But Jack didn’t come. Poor Jack! He was just about to start off when Susie

and Binkie came rolling with laughter up the drive, the pail clanking between
them. When they told him what had happened, he sat down on the front steps
and groaned.

‘SUSIE! How COULD you go to the meeting and pretend to be me? How COULD

you tell me the wrong time? I can’t possibly go to the meeting. I’ll have to
telephone and apologize for your behaviour — and probably I’ll be chucked out
of the club!’

‘We don’t mind writing and apologizing,’ said Susie. ‘I don’t mind writing a

dozen apologies — it was worth a dozen to crash in on the meeting, and
bamboozle everyone — and Binkie was SUCH a good shot with the water!’

‘Didn’t anyone spot that you weren’t me?’ said Jack in wonder.

‘Only Scamper. He growled like anything,’ said Susie. ‘Oh, I’m going to start

laughing again — oh Binkie, did you think our pail of water would be so
useful?’

Jack went off in disgust and disappointment. He had been looking forward to

the meeting so much. Now he couldn’t possibly go. He went to the telephone to
apologize for Susie’s behaviour — but just as he was about to lift the receiver,
the bell rang. It was Janet on the phone.

‘Jack? Jack, it really is you, not Susie, isn’t it?’ said Janet’s anxious voice.

‘This is just to say that the meeting is off for tonight — we’re all rather wet! I
expect Susie has told you all about it. No, don’t apologize for her, Jack — you
weren’t to blame. But Peter wants me to say the meeting is postponed till
tomorrow. Will you come then?’

‘Yes. Yes, I’d love to,’ said Jack, much relieved. ‘Thanks awfully. Actually I

was just coming along now, so I’m glad you rang. No — no, of course I won’t
tell Susie about the next meeting. But why don’t you go on with tonight’s?’

‘We’re too wet and cross,’ said Janet. ‘We’ll see you tomorrow, then.

Goodbye!’

So, the next night, the Secret Seven met once more, and this time there was no

growling from Scamper, for it really was Jack there, not Susie! Everyone made
quite a fuss of Jack, for he felt so ashamed and, forlorn to think that his sister
had spoilt a meeting.

‘Cheer up, Jack — it had its funny side,’ said Pam, kindly.

‘Had it? Well, I can’t say I noticed it,’ said Peter. ‘However, let’s get on with

this meeting. Scamper, please keep your ears cocked for any sound outside.’

Scamper at once went to the door, and put his head on one side. Now no one

could even creep near! Scamper could hear the smallest sound — even the feet
of a night-beetle running by on the path outside!

The meeting went quite well. The tin of chocolate biscuits was a great success.

There were so many biscuits in it that everyone was able to have at least six —
and Scamper had a generous share! He ate his biscuits over by the door,
determined not to let anyone come in unless he recognized voice and footsteps!

‘Now,’ said Peter, when biscuits had been eaten and orangeade and lemonade

drunk, ‘now — if this club is going to continue properly, we’ll have to decide on
doing something together.’

‘Like helping somebody?’ asked Pam. ‘Mother says we ought to help some

charity if we can’t think of anything to do. She says it’s silly to have a club that
just meets and eats and talks.’

‘Well, I like that! We’ve done heaps of things in this club!’ said Janet,

indignantly. ‘Helped people — solved mysteries — and the very last thing we
did was to find that dog-stealer. The one who stole the shepherd’s sheep-dog,
Shadow — and stole Scamper as well, and . . .’

‘All right, all right,’ said Pam. ‘I know all that. I’m only telling you what my

mother says.’

‘Well, it’s fun to have some aim, some interest,’ said Barbara. ‘You know —

something to think about and puzzle about. Just think of the exciting things that
have happened to us — and now here we sit, just eating more and more biscuits,
the same as last time. We don’t seem to have a brain between us.’

Peter listened, and frowned. ‘You know — Barbara’s right,’ he said. ‘We MUST

think of something to do. We’ve plenty of brains between us — we know that.
Now — who has any ideas? Speak up, please.’

There was a very long, frowning silence. ‘I never can think of any good ideas

when I’m ordered to,’ complained Janet. ‘The best ideas aren’t ones I think out
— they’re the ones that come in a flash!’

‘Isn’t there some mystery we can try to solve?’ asked George, ‘or someone we

can help in some way?’

‘Well — there’s only one mystery I know about — and that’s to find out who

tied our headmaster’s chair halfway up the flag-pole in the school grounds,’ said
Colin, with a spurt of laughter. ‘You can’t think how daft it looked there last
Wednesday, when we went to school.’

‘It would be a waste of time to solve such a silly little mystery,’ said Pam. ‘In

fact, I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if it didn’t turn out to be that awful Susie who
managed to put it there — with her friend Binkie’s help!’